


Don't Bet On It!

by Skylar_Matthews



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Manipulation, Slavery, Torture, kink meme fill, non-con, theoretical hacking, vaguely suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Matthews/pseuds/Skylar_Matthews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you follow the kink meme it shouldn't be too hard to guess this prompt. If not, details are inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pjlover666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/gifts).



> Prompt: [Here](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=14424576#t14424576)
> 
> Smokescreen bets his brother’s soon-to-be bondmate on a risky gamble to keep them off the streets after losing everything else. And loses once more. Enraged at the pair, Jazz cuts all ties but can’t come up with the necessary credits to buy his citizenship certificate back in time and so becomes property of a local noble house in Praxus. Desperate to protect Jazz and prove he really does love him, Prowl applies to the same household while Smokescreen is supposed to collect the required funds. Surely nothing else could go wrong, right?
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> I should totally not be starting a new plot with everything else I have going but my muses decided they wanted a crack at this so here we go.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

The speaker was a Praxian mech painted in the simple black and white of an Enforcer, though all official markings designating him as such were absent as he was off duty and casino patrons tended to get nervous with unnecessary law enforcement wandering around. In fact, the only color on him, aside from his optics, was the vibrant red of his chevron. His companion was also Praxian, though he held himself more loosely and his finish was nowhere near as pristine. Predominantly blue and red, he sported a bright yellow chevron with matching accent marks and a personality nearly as loud as his paint job.

"Hey, don't blame me for this. We both know you weren't gonna agree until your sparkmate convinced ya."

" _Smokescreen!_ " the first all but hissed, aghast.

"Oh c'mon... We both know it's true, but if it really bothers ya I'll just keep callin' him your lover." That garnered him a glare but the colorful mech just kept going. "Don't you dare me you two haven't 'faced yet. Yes, I know who you are but I also see how you are around him so don't you deny it."

"Hmph."

Taking that as a victory on that topic, Smokescreen flowed into a slightly different topic. "Gotta say though, I never woulda pegged ya as one to fall for an outsider."

"Don't call him that. It's rude and you know he's in the process of finalizing his residency."

"I know, I know... You don't gotta tell me again, Prowlie."

"Stop that." The words came with an irritated flick of black and white sensor panels. "You know I hate it when you butcher my designation."

"That ain't true. You let your lover do it all the time."

"Did I say it annoyed me when he does it?"

"But if you let him do it then you shouldn't complain about me doing so too."

"That's different..."

"I don't see how, unless he's really that good 'a frag."

"Could you pretend you have any dignity for even two astroseconds?"

Smokescreen paused with a serious expression before finally speaking. "I think I'll need to have a word with Jazz. Clearly he's not meeting your needs properly or you wouldn't be so tense still."

With an aggravated grumble, Prowl stalked off. But not so quickly he couldn't still track his brother by means of his sensor wings, even canted high in anger as they presently sat. As predicted, the other mech soon followed, attempted pacifications and not-quite-apologies spilling out to try calming him. They never actually worked but Smokescreen would never learn.

He only barely stopped the exasperated ex-vent from escaping. This "night on the town" as his sibling and mate had both called it, was doing nothing but stressing him out further. He would much rather be with the latter, doing pretty much anything else. Even this disaster of a night wouldn't be so bad if Jazz hadn't retired back to their rented room a while ago. It was exceedingly strange behavior for him, but the up-and-coming singer and performance artist had just ended a nearly overwhelming tour of semi-popular clubs and bars in Iacon a couple orns previous and was still recovering from the grueling schedule. The only reason Prowl hadn't turned in as well was that someone had to sparklingsit Smokescreen so he didn't gamble away their apartment. Again.

Hopefully, though, by the time he bored Smokescreen into returning to their room, Jazz would be awake and rested well enough for a little indulgence. They had played a little since his return but it was never enough, all the time in the world together wouldn't be enough. Plus it would only be fitting payback to confine Smokescreen to their private washracks after he'd been made to suffer through this. They couldn't lock him out after all, or else the gambler would just get himself into more trouble he couldn't get out of, and possibly them too.

Slightly too focused in his thoughts, Prowl never noticed the femme until they all but collided. He caught himself easily but she was more than a little overcharged and would have landed flat on her aft if not for managing to partially launch herself at him so that she ended up half hanging off the mech with her arms around his neck.

"Yer a cutie, an' ma hero... sav'n' me from the floor..." Turning a gaze that might have been intended as a flirtatious but was actually mildly disturbing instead on him, she added, "ya gonna kiss me now? Like in all th' stories?"

"I think not," Prowl responded as he freed himself from her grasp.

"Bu-bu-but.... You saved me. I's true love!"

He was saved from answering when another femme, this one deep blue in color, suddenly appeared. "There ya are, 'Cee. Time ta get ya home. Ya've had way more than enough."

The first femme, painted pink now that he had a chance to notice, just dropped to the floor and giggled. This lead the other femme, who was apparently her friend, to heft her up and over her shoulder showing off a physical strength few femmes bothered to achieve. The shift in her worldview got the pink femme looking at Prowl again and she giggled harder. "Foun' ma true love, 'Mia. Save' me from fall'n an' e'ryth'ng."

"I'm sure," the blue femme replied before noticing the mech still watching them and decided to address him. "Don't go mind'n' ma sister or anyth'ng she says. She can' hold 'er highgrade worth noth'ng. Won' even 'member any'a this when she wakes up."

"I don't doubt that."

A nod from the blue femme. "Don' get yerself any wild ideas 'bout the whole 'true love' th'ng either. No offense ta you er anyth'ng but she's too young still ta go get'n bonded."

"I never even considered it, I'm quite happily taken myself."

"Good then." She nodded again. "Now I gotta be get'n this one ta a berth 'fore she purges from vertigo."

And with that the femme duo were off and soon out of sight in the crowd. And speaking of out of sight... Cursing the short lapse in his attention span, Prowl quickly focused himself on seeking out Smokescreen once more. But the mech was nowhere to be found. Frag, this was not good. He could be anywhere at this point, getting into all sorts of untold trouble and he would never be able to find the other mech. Even the idea of comm-ing wasn't actually an option because of the signal dampeners these places kept running, as a method of minimizing cheating. That left wandering around at random and hoping to run into his brother before he could make a mess of their lives agai-

Oh, there he was.

Prowl let out a relieved ex-vent when he caught a familiar signal in the crowd and quickly headed towards it. As he neared Smokescreen though his concern only grew into further dread. Who were those mechs with his brother and why did he seem so tense around them?

Prowl debated for a nanoklik over walking off and just leaving Smokescreen to his own fate, but that would only compound the situation, as bad as it may already be, even further. Left with no real options, he continued his approach. Smokescreen quickly spotted him and halved the distance, with his accompanying duo in tow.

"There you are, Prowl. Now hear me out," and if there was ever a troubling phrase that was certainly on the list. Especially as one of the mechs, a shuttleformer based on size, moved in attempt to restrain him. "There's a good reasoning for all'a this but-"

"What're ya trying to pull?" spoke up the other stranger. "This ain't the right mech."

"What are you talking about? Of course it is, you've met my brother before."

Pulling himself free of the shuttle's grip, Prowl advanced on Smokescreen. "What is the meaning of this? What did you do?"

"I... uh..." Smokescreen could only stumble for words for a klik as he stood under his younger brother's glare. "Well, you see... I ran into Swindle and his brother and they remembered an old bet I hadn't paid on yet and with the interest factored in it was way more than I could pay right now. He wanted his money though so we decided on another little wager, my debt versus a citizenship certificate. And, well..."

"Naturally you lost again," Prowl finished. Ex-venting deeply when Smokescreen's nonverbals confirmed, he had another question. "What does this have to so with me now?"

"Anybot who knows anything knows better than to trust anything Smokes here carries on himself." This time it was the smaller mech who spoke, the shuttle having moved back to his side now that he wasn't trying to hold Prowl anymore. "So a'course I wouldn't trust his certificate to be real and I told him such and so he wagered yours." Prowl had absently noticed the datapad that this mech held but hadn't considered its contents until it was wavered in front of him now. The resulting conclusion was processor-numbing. And the mech was still talking. "I only accepted because I'd met ya before so I knew you were real, though you're a bit older than that youngling."

"You didn't!" Prowl rounded on Smokescreen when he managed to focus again. "Tell me this isn't happening."

"It's not that bad, promise!" The colorful Praxian tried to defend himself even as his doors raised higher in alarm and back. "He didn't know you were an Enforcer and I know your boss'll fight to keep you outta the slave rings..."

"Smokescreen..." The black and white's tone had calmed but he was quivering with rage still. "You have no idea what you just did."

"Sure I do. Enforcers can't be forced into slavery if their chief doesn't agree and I know Chase likes you too much to let you go."

"No, you really don't." Each syllable had a harsher edge to it. "That wasn't my certificate."

"Of course it was. Whose else could it b- oh." It was obvious the nanoklik Smokescreen realized and understood as suddenly his entire posture shifted. Conflicting emotions crept into his field and movements until he settled on confused and disbelieving. "You two are actually planning to bond?"

"That was our intention. After his registration went through."

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"We were planning to inform you tonight, before you turned up wanting to take us out for the night. Then it was easier to leave it alone until later. We never expected you to do something this stupid."

"Hey! I'm not..." He'd started off indignant but withered under the glower directed his way once more. "Ok, fine. I did something stupid, now how are we gonna fix it?"

Another deep ex-vent. There were few problems Smokescreen caused that he had to be left to fix on his own and Prowl would have gladly left him this one if the older Praxian had bet himself but since he hadn't, he had to step in. And he especially had to this time because it was Jazz's freedom on the line.

"First," Prowl began, slipping temporarily into strategic mode. It would nullify his emotions and clear his processor, if only for a short while. "We need to warn him. And you get to explain what you did." An absent glance around revealed the other pair of mechs had vanished some time previous and that was more than plenty of cause to worry. "After that, then we figure out a plan."

~~~~~

They got back to their room with no obvious tail following them, not that it mattered overly much as the security system clearly saw every move they made. Prowl sent the door code as they neared, letting Smokescreen enter first so he could attempt to collect himself before facing his mate. The walk back to their room had been tense and silent, with plenty of time for his processor to run and everything he got back from it was more troubling than the previous thought. 

"Yer back early," came a somewhat muffled comment as the speaker rolled to the edge of one of the oversized berths. "Did ya lose everything already?"

"Actually..." Smokescreen began but was cut off.

"I was kiddin' when I asked that, ya know." Jazz paused when he saw Prowl, the second Praxian all but hidden behind his brother. Slipping off the berth, he moved to close the distance, Smokescreen obligingly moving out of the way without being asked. "What happened, Prowler? Ya look terrible. Did 'e lose yer apartment again?"

All the other black and white could manage was a soft mutter of his name and it hurt Jazz that he wouldn't even look at him. "Ya know I have some credits saved up, I'll help ya get it back."

Hesitantly, he drew Prowl into his embrace and only at that close proximity did he finally feel the mess of emotions his partner was trying and failing to hold back. Skilled as he was at reading fields, Prowl's flickered through so many variations that even Jazz couldn't keep up well enough to understand the situation. "C'mon, Prowl, talk to me. Whatever it is we c'n get through it together. Please...?"

That last, softly spoken word seemed to do the trick. Finally, Prowl met his gaze. His words chilled the performer to the spark though. "You don't understand, Jazz. It's so much worse than you know..."

"Well tell me then. We'll figure it out somehow."

Prowl just shook his helm 'no' and that's when the all-but-forgotten other Praxian spoke up. "Actually, that's supposed to be my job to tell you."

Jazz leveled a cold look at the mech who was certainly to blame for the present situation and he nearly faltered. "Well, come out with it then."

"Well, you see..."

Smokescreen was saved from having to explain further by a heavy rap on the door. Both Praxians twitched at the sound and because he was pretty much closest, Jazz took the last couple steps to reach the door. When he opened it there was a large mech standing outside who spoke before Jazz could get a word out.

"I'm looking for Jazz of Polyhex."

Bristling slightly at his tone, the visored mech responded. "Tha's me. An' just what d'ya want?"

Jazz thought he was ready for anything this mech could throw at him. Even when the stranger brought out a datapad and began to read from it. He was so very wrong...

"I am here to tell you that you now belong to this establishment and any and all rights you had are now null and void." A datapad was shoved into his hands and the mech continued to read aloud. "As a courtesy, we here at the Silver Strike are allowing you until the end of the decaorn the chance to collect the credits to buy back your freedom. If you can not manage this then you will be put up for auction at the start of the next metacycle.

"The Silver Strike and associates would like to thank you for your attendance and patronage and wish you the best of luck."

Jazz could only stare dumbfounded for a klik after that as the door slid shut. When he recovered enough to open it again, the mech was gone. Looking to the 'pad in his grasp, he quickly skimmed through it as the door closed once more. The calm and silence only lasted until he finally managed to process what he was reading. Then there was no holding back.

"Ya bet me!" He rounded on Smokescreen first. "An' not only that, ya had ta go an' lose?!

"An' you!" he turned on Prowl then. "Ya were supposed ta be watchin' 'im so 'e wouldn' lose too big a bet an' instead ya let him wager me! I thought ya cared about me but clearly I was wrong."

"That's not true!" Prowl responded, louder than he expected. Shrinking in on himself just slightly, he tried to explain. "I didn't **let** him do anything. I don't even know how he got your certificate."

"Oh sure. Like 'e coulda jus' reached inta yer subspace an' steal it..."

"It's actually not as hard to do as you think," Smokescreen finally spoke up. "Besides, I didn't know it was yours or I wouldn't of bet with it."

"Am I really supposed ta believe ya were gonna bet yer own brother?"

"Well, you see... He's an Enforcer after all..."

Jazz could only stare at him for a klik. Finally... "Is e'ryone in this city-state fraggin' crazy?!"

"Hey now-" Smokescreen tried but was cut off.

"No. Tha's it. I'm done. I can' stay with crazies an' tha's 'xactly what ya both are."

“Here, this is yours.” From out of his subspace came a datapad, which he flung at Prowl. It hit his chestplate and fell to the floor but no one bothered to pick it up as Jazz continued. “Keep it. Or don’t, as ya seem ta keep forgettin’ that yer kin is a criminal.” Opening the door again, he stepped out as he bid them a final message. "Don' ya dare come after me. I'll find my own way outta this mess an' then I'm gone."

The door shut before either local could reply and Jazz was running as soon as he was out of sight. He couldn't risk either of them trying to follow. He didn't bother to slow down until he'd put two hotel wings and five floors between himself and the room they'd shared and even then it was only due to exhaustion. Sinking to the floor in a corner in a stairwell that had seen much better orns, Jazz could only curl in on himself as the situation fully hit now that the anger had worn off. It wasn't fair that his life was over and it wasn't even his fault. Anger had given way to fear which now melted into worry and sadness and as he huddled in the corner the toll of raging emotions finally wore him offline.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the auction house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Minor revision done to the end of the previous chapter as I noticed very belatedly that I’d skipped an important detail… Also, I find it looks nicer to use the European style for large numbers for Cybertronian functions so, for American readers (and any other countries that might use the same), periods in large numbers function as commas do. 10.000=10,000]

It had been orns and he had been hurting since the door slid shut behind Jazz. Separating them physically just as effectively as Smokescreen's stupid gamble had in all other ways. Despite understanding, and even agreeing with, Jazz's reasoning it still broke his spark that the other thought he would have allowed the situation to happen. That stung worse than losing Jazz. At least it was logical to separate from those who wronged you, but could Jazz really believe he was so sparkless? It was as if their entire relationship had never happened and that rejection hurt so badly that it took everything Prowl had to get up when he onlined in the morning.

Even though he wasn't at fault, and Jazz might not even want his aid anyway, Prowl was compelled to try and help. It was why he'd banished Smokescreen from returning home until he'd made back the credits they needed in a legal manner, so indefinitely. It was also what drove him to collect his own meager savings and show up at the auction block. He had no idea how expensive it was to buy back your citizenship and hoped desperately as he looked around that Jazz had managed so he wasn't stuck in that place. Even though he longed to see the other mech and be sure he was well, that there was no hope for reconciliation had been abundantly clear. And no matter how badly he still wanted to know Jazz was alright, Prowl dreaded the thought of finding him here. The bots for sale were being held in cages for frag's sake!

It was as if those thoughts were a summons. As the crowd parted slightly, the officer heard a softly spoken iteration of his designation, disbelieving if nothing else. But also hopeful, if he stopped to analyze it. "Prowl?"

A quick search of the area and he found the speaker. Immediately Prowl was moving beside a nearby cage that held five mechs. "Jazz!"

A sad and slightly conflicted smile was flashed his way from the bot seated at the edge. "Never thought I'd see ya here."

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to find you here either," Prowl confessed sadly. It made his spark ache harder to see the mech he loved so much through the bars separating them.

"Ya shouldn'ta." The response held true bite and Prowl flinched before he could stop himself even though the anger wasn't aimed at him this time. "I had enough credits but when I showed up ta pay my way free they locked me up instead. Claimed I hadn' shown up in time ta pay my debt. Ya can do somethin', right? Tha's gotta be illegal!"

"It should be," Prowl quickly agreed, as he would have even if the victim wasn't someone he loved. "Even if it's not against the law it should be." His tone quickly saddened and voice dropped as he continued though. "Unfortunately there's nothing I can actually do-"

"But yer an Enforcer. Yer supposed ta help bots!"

"And I do where I can but these places fall under a special subset of laws," and his tone of disgust showed just what he thought of _that_ particular mentality, "so I have no power here." Not to mention the fact he'd covered his Enforcer emblems long before arriving so he could pass through mostly unnoticed. It wasn't that Enforcers couldn't or didn't attend these auctions, but it was a rare event.

What little hope there had been in the performer's frame disappeared as he sank back on the bench. "I guess tha's it then?"

Prowl's spark tightened just a little more at his former mate's defeat. It was so wrong on the typically cheerful and vibrant mech and he would do anything to rid him of it. Even if that meant never seeing him again... But first he had to help him get free. 

"Not quite..."

"What've ya got planned?" Jazz questioned with an inquisitive slant of his helm, despite his desire to remain impassive. And then another question occurred to him. "Jus' what're ya doin' here anyway? This gig is hardly yer kinda place."

"I was looking for you, with the hope you wouldn't be here of course, to offer any help I could," Prowl began. There was a hint of defensiveness to his tone. "And, worst case scenario, I was going to bid on you...."

When Jazz just stared at him with the strangest expression, it compelled the officer to continue in the weirdest semblance of rambling ever. "Not that I was looking to own you or anything like that. I know you don't want anything to do with me anymore and even this interaction is pushing that boundary but I can't just not help. You know me. You've seen my coding. I can't not try, especially because it's you who needs saving this time. And the code is always worst about those I care about..." Quickly he moved away from that subject because it wouldn't do to dwell on when there would be no resolution. "And I swear I would have turned over your certificate to you immediately when- Why are you laughing?"

Jazz's reaction was indeed laughter, starting about halfway into Prowl's explanation and beginning as nothing before building. Oddly, it sounded more humored than stressed, as if the mech had lost his mind because the topic certainly wasn't a laughing matter. "Where d'ya plan ta get _those_ credits, mech?"

Mildly confused by the apparent subject change, Prowl nonetheless answered. "I borrowed a considerable amount from my boss under the cover of intending to ask you to bond and desiring an amazing gift to offer. You... might not want to get in any trouble here in Praxus after this is over."

"Wasn't plannin' on stayin' so tha's not a problem."

Prowl had to force himself to nod and ignore the jolt of pain that lanced through his spark. He wasn't sure what he had expected but to have all chance of seeing Jazz again torn so completely from him was a new pain. Still, he had to pay attention and focus on what Jazz was saying, even as his spark plummeted more as he continued.

"An' I sure hope yer definition an' mine 'a "considerable" aren't similar b'cause ya'll need a lot more than that." Several emotions flickered through the performer's field in rapid succession before he leveled it out again. "I had ta grab my entire savings an' I jus' barely coulda afforded the buyout. Ya ain't gonna be anywhere close without a fragton more than I know ya got."

Jazz watched as Prowl processed all that and it was clear the moment when he realized just how short of credits he would be. That expression and the accompanying devastation in his field, usually after an incident where several innocents were killed, always made Jazz want to gather the other up and just hold him and hide away until the world got better around them. Absently he noted that desire hadn't faded now that his own anger was nonexistent. "Here."

Prowl looked back to Jazz, confused. He was only mildly less so when several credit sticks were held out to him, cupping his own servos out of habit more than conscious thought as he watched Jazz pull more from his subspace. In total there were 12, anywhere between 1.000 and the max of 50.000 credits on each, amounting to a little more than half a million credits total.

"I don't understand."

"Use these fer yer bidding."

"But this is all of your savings."

"An' if ya don' use it then ya can't help me. B'sides, it'd just all go to my owner if I am sold so I lose it all anyway."

They studied one another for a klik before Prowl nodded and subspaced those credits alongside the others he carried. It brought him up close to 700.000 credits. Hopefully that would be enough...

"Ya gotta go now," Jazz commented, snapping Prowl out of the cycle of worry he's begun again. The questioning look was all Jazz needed to elaborate. "The auction'll be start in' soon an' ya'll wanna be there. Ya do know how this works, right?"

"Of course." It was the confidence of the educated with just the slightest bit of annoyance that Jazz thought he would be so dumb as to make this attempt without first learning everything he could.

"Good."

It was all Jazz said before Prowl walked off but to the Praxian's retreating form he softly added, "I have every faith in you."

~

The starting bid was set for 15.000 credits and Prowl suppressed a wince as that rose quickly. Even with the credits on loan from Chase he never would have stood any chance of saving Jazz on his own. Silently Prowl offered thanks to Primus that Jazz had a considerably higher amount of personal savings.

The bid was at 100.000 before he could even get acknowledged and made it to 370.000 before the bidders started to taper off. Those with too few credits or only interested for the new experience were the first to fall out; leaving those genuinely interested in the purchase and the occasional buffer striving just to drive the total higher. At that point the increase was slower and less incremented but still reached 455.000 before Prowl was left with one other bidder. The femme had been making bids increasing the value by the same percentage and had become active in the end portion of the bidding so she seemed to one of the latter sorts. She had to be gauging him too, Prowl figured, so now was the time to take a chance.

"500.000."

High enough to show genuine interest but still low enough he could cover if she did decide to up the bid again by her standard.

"500.000. I've got 500.000 credits down the center. Do I have 525.000? Going once."

It seemed the femme had stepped out finally and Prowl vented a soft sigh of relief.

"Going twice."

Chancing a glance up, Prowl looked towards Jazz and caught the very faint trace of a smile. His spark danced happily in it's casing at that. Maybe they were over as a couple but at least Jazz didn't seem to hate him anymore and perhaps they could rebuild a strong friendship after this.

It was only because he was looking that Prowl saw the minute reaction Jazz gave at the next words; the tremor that came and went in an instant as a cold voice spoke. "1.000.000 credits."

For his part, Prowl had no idea what he felt. There were just so many emotions flashing through him and he was trying desperately to figure out how to counter that bid. In the end though, there was nothing he could do being 300.000 credits short and the auctioneer's words cut straight through his spark.

"Sold to the black and white mech in the back corner."

The auctioneer quickly moved onto the next prospective sale and Prowl just filtered him into background noise once more as he turned to study the interloper. The mech had a similar paint scheme to his own without being Enforcer-only styling and had to have plenty of credits if merely judging by the state of his finish. A mid-range noble probably, possibly higher but few of those resided in Praxus and were well known besides. Possibly a newly upgraded creation to a high noble family but those were typically large ceremonial events...

Stopping his wandering thoughts, Prowl took back to focusing on memorizing this mech. He didn't exactly have a plan yet, he'd refused to plan for anything other than Jazz still hating him even after helping him get free here, but he knew he'd need to find out who this mech was and this was surely the only time he'd ever see him. So, shoving his emotions aside for the time being, Prowl slipped into officer mode and began mentally noting every slight detail he could of the mech he now had to save Jazz from. And save him he would, no matter what the cost to himself was...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz's view of the auction and subsequent introduction to the new household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... this should have gotten written much sooner but I got hit by the guilt train majorly over what's coming up in here so I kinda kept avoiding it. Unfortunately since the muses are only talking here and the fic I just updated and I want to get a new chapter to something else before updating that /again/ that left me stuck here. Hopefully it reads well enough and be warned that this is where things really start going bad.

The light blue and silver femme was a plant, Jazz picked out from his place beside the stage alongside the rest of the other potential sales. She was a rather obvious one at that, he amended as he watched her glance once more to a cycleformer at the edge of the room. Not quite as obvious as the brown and forest green mini in the front left corner though, who kept upping every bid by the exact same amount until he reached what must be his cut off point, but his presence only helped to hide hers. The silver and midnight blue flyer might be another too. It was hard to tell because he'd only bid on two mechs so far.

It was actually a rather impressive setup, the performer had to admit. Everyone knew to expect one plant and some of the clever ones might guess there were two but expecting any more made a bot seem paranoid and had never been proven before now. Even though he was stuck facing a terrible situation, Jazz could still be impressed by a clever play against the 'audience' as they could almost be considered. He did something a bit similar with his own concerts, all performers did, and so he could easily recognize it from others. If it wasn't about to be used against him he might even have thought to compliment the staff on the arrangement.

He spent his time analyzing the crowd, trying to determine everyone's motives as he waited. A little less than half he would say were regulars to this sort of thing while six different bots gave off the vibe of being new and simply there to watch and experience. Four mechs and a mini each seemed to be looking for someone in particular, based on their lack of bids this far and frequent glances towards the waiting group by the stage. A group of three femmes seated in a back corner appeared to be there just to pass the time and gossip and gawk at the few good looking bots that were up for sale.

His turn came both too slow and too soon and Jazz was none too gently shoved up the staircase. He made it up without falling on his faceplates but purposely kept his natural grace out of his movements. No need to be actively enticing right now. That would be exceedingly counterproductive after all. Slumping a bit as he stood there too, the performer took to every trick he could think of in order to seem less appealing.

Unfortunately it didn't seem to work as his bid rose rapidly. He did consider freaking out for a nanoklik when the figure hit six digits and Prowl still hadn't made a bid, but managed to contain himself. He'd seen a mech have a breakdown earlier that morning and the results were not pretty. Thankfully the officer made a successful bid a short while later and Jazz relaxed just a tiny bit. Prowl hadn't changed his mind about using his own credits to help buy himself. With the other mech's moral coding that had been a distinct possibility and a terrifying one at that.

Sneaking a glance into the crowd, he could almost feel Prowl's distress as the bid kept rising but if his observations were correct the bids would taper off soon as the new bidders and only moderately interested decided not to spend so much. That would only leave any potential hardcore bidders (and he strongly hoped he hadn't caught the optic of one of those because some had serious credits they could just drop on a purchase at anytime), any plants that ran that high, and Prowl. Hopefully for the last anyway, but it was unlikely many would go so high as the amount he'd given Prowl.

A short while later all but two bidders had removed themselves from the auction; leaving Prowl facing against one of the less obvious plants. Still it was a risk because her job was to drive the bid higher and they were reaching the end of the credits he'd given Prowl. Silently he hoped the other mech had studied up on all aspects of this sort of thing.

A klik later his worries were resolved when Prowl increased his bid far higher than he had been. That would devastate his own funds but should be enough to show the officer's genuine interest. And he could only trust that Prowl would be able to match it if she went even higher.

Gratefully it seemed to succeed. The femme was out of the race and he looked out at the crowd in time to see Prowl exvent his own relief, his entire frame releasing the tension it had probably held the entire time.

"Going twice."

Prowl looked up and caught his gaze and Jazz only barely kept back the smile he wanted to give. There was no doubting how much the other cared about him, nor how much he felt in return, but it still came as a small surprise just how much they would be willing to do for one another. A pleasant one, but a surprise nonetheless.

And then his spark plummeted as a new voice spoke up. "1.000.000 credits."

Too stunned, he couldn't even hide his shock at first and ended up just staring into the crowd. His focus fell on Prowl again and he could just see the gears grinding away in his processor, and so he also saw when the officer knew he had no options. But that didn't seem to stop the torrent of thought that meant he must be planning something, which was the only reason Jazz was able to pull himself back together and start his own sort of planning. Maybe all he could do was survive until Prowl's plans came to fruition, but survive he would.

"Sold to the black and white mech in the back corner."

Somehow...

~

Processing of sales didn't happen until after the auction's end and purchases remained on the property until sales were finalized so it was several joors later before Jazz was allowed (or rather forced) out of the dark room all sold slaves had been returned to after their bidding. The room he was lead to wasn't far off from the holding area but he had no chance to really pay attention as he was quickly manhandled and made to kneel. At the same time, something was clasped around his neck and a cable shoved into the now concealed port there.

The performer tried to ready himself for the mental invasion but none ever came. It was as if there was nothing on the other end at all. And that just made it feel all the more invasive somehow. So much so, in fact, that he failed to notice the words directed at him until he was, quite literally, yanked to his pedes by the collar he now wore. He instinctively made to shout at whoever it was handling him now but his attempt was cut short by a sharp jolt of electricity through his frame. 

A snapped command to follow was what cut through his shock and Jazz instinctively did so. He was then led outside through the room's other door and ordered to transform. Wary now of another zap, he listened and only hesitantly followed when the other mech transformed as well before driving off. There was no backlash from that choice, but he only partially noticed because something was wrong with his altmode sensors. The only clearly noticeable thing was the mech he was tailing, the rest was muted to the point that even the drivers alongside him were only indistinct blurs on his sensors. And forget any attempt to make out what the buildings or other surroundings might look like. He couldn't even get them to register on his scanners at all.

It was a long and frightening drive to their destination; both because he didn't know what was waiting for him and because he had no idea what dangers lay around him. So when they finally arrived and he was ordered to transform again, Jazz did so with a horrified thankfulness. There was no telling what awaited him now but at least he'd be able to see the danger coming.

The building itself was quite large, Jazz couldn't help noticing as they traveled through it, but he only got a short glimpse of a few rooms, closed doors and empty corridors as he was led further in. When they finally stopped, it was at a door that was indistinguishable from the rest as far as the performer could tell. The room beyond, when the door was opened, had been decorated in simple, light colors with a definite lean towards form over function but an almost eerie deliberateness. Every single thing seemed perfectly placed as if anything was moved or even touched then the illusion would shatter.

And that was all Jazz could process before he was pushed inside. The door shut as he caught his balance and when he instinctively turned to look back, he found himself staring at the mech who had bought his certificate. For sharing the same frametype and colors, that was where any similarities between this mech and Prowl (or even himself) ended. Primarily black with only small sections of white, his paint scheme held a dark and dangerous tone. The black continued back onto his wings, built all sharp edges and points, with silver highlights taking the place of any white on those appendages.

"Your paint needs fixing," a cold voice cut through the performer's analysis and musing, startling him again. "But you're passable otherwise."

'What're ya talkin' about?' Jazz wanted to ask, but he'd barely started his vocalizer when he was interrupted. With one servo, his captor grasped his helm and pulled him in until their lip plates collided. Before Jazz could react the other's glossa invaded his mouth. 

Finally finding his senses, Jazz brought his own servos up to shove the mech away. That action resulted in a shock to his systems that actually caused him to stumble.

"Don't be like that," the threat came as the Praxian advanced on him. "I wasn't planning to be rough this time, but that can change."

Jazz really had nowhere to go and soon found himself backed against the berth. Caught off guard, he couldn't keep from being shoved onto it nor could he do anything to prevent his captor climbing atop him. When he did remember to try to move, he found he suddenly couldn't even without any restraints. Panic swelled even before the none-too-gentle contact to his interface panel and order to open up. Regardless of how bad an idea it was, Jazz instinctively refused. At least until the force was actually starting to damage his frame; only then did he reluctantly relent.

The intrusion caused a searing pain as unprepared and unwilling as he was and it only got worse and worse until his attacker finally overloaded. He couldn't even be bothered to care that it had happened inside him, other than a weak gratefulness that it hurt less when the other pulled out. He didn't care at all to pay attention to what his captor said, only caring that he had control of his own frame again.

Jazz's self control lasted only as long as it took his captor to leave the room before he broke down. Stress and fear and panic and pain and sadness flooded him and his venting hitched uncontrollably as he curled in on himself. It didn't help and wouldn't let him vanish like he wanted, but it was the closest he could come to feeling whole so it had to be enough for now. Soon, though not soon enough, he fell into recharge with one thought in his processor.

'Please hurry, Prowl.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl's plans begin, some of the slavery stuff is explained, and the mystery mech is finally revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't exactly the sort of thing to be posting at holiday time but it was the next thing I managed to write so I may as well update.

_Barricade._

Finding the mech had been simple enough, however, finding reliable information about him had proven far more challenging.

_First and only creation of a mid-range noble house._

_Praxian carrier with a believed Kaonite sire, the mech had left Praxus in search of his other creator immediately after his adult upgrades several decavorn previous._

And that was where all definitive knowledge had ended. Presumably he was back because his carrier had offlined in the last few vorn but the gate guards didn't track the entry of natives as they would outsiders so there would be no record of his return. Rumors suggested the mech had gotten involved in underhanded and black market dealings upon leaving, and honestly, well, how would one survive in a low-end city such as Tarn or Kaon without less than legal practices?

The more he read, the less Prowl liked and the more he feared for Jazz. He'd known just from the buyer's look that they were in for some problems, but now it seemed they'd be lucky to even get Jazz out online. True, they had five vorn to get him out before the law considered Jazz a true slave, but if they couldn't collect the proper funds before the end of the first vorn it was unlikely that disgrace of a noble would agree to a remotely reasonable price. And then there was chance he might try to ignore the purchased slave laws altogether.

Prowl exvented softly before standing. Finding the credits would be a challenge all its own too but he was only one mech and so had to hope Smokescreen could scrape up some of his uncanny (yet unfortunately highly sporadic) luck. The greater concern was in making certain Jazz survived, both physically and mentally intact, long enough to be freed, and that required his own participation.

"Chase?"

"What can I do for you, Prowl?"

"I have a request to make, sir."

~~

 **Guidelines to understanding the laws regarding the purchase and ownership of new slaves**  
[...]  
OWNERSHIP  
The first vorn:  
-Purchases are allowed, by law, to be bought back by family for the original purchase price and must be released.  
-Purchases are not slaves and are not to be overworked or intentionally injured in any way.  
-Purchases are not to be forced to carry or create at all and retain legal creator rights should a sparkling occur.  
-Slave coding is not to be installed.  
[...]  
Vorns two through five:  
-Purchases, by law, may still be bought back by family. Family and owner must come to an agreed price and the agreement terms be put into a legally binding contract.  
-Purchases are not yet slaves and may not be mutilated, disfigured or otherwise crippled in any way.  
-Purchases should not be forced to carry and retain legal creator rights in the event they are with spark.  
-Slave coding is not to be installed.  
(In the event of no family contact upon late vorn four, slave coding may be introduced but is not to be activated.)  
[...]  
Vorn five:  
-Purchases are now legally deemed slaves and all rights and property firmly belong to their owner.  
-Slave coding may now be installed/activated.

This establishment hopes you have found this guideline helpful and informative and congratulates you on your new purchase. We hope to see you again as well and wish you the best of luck!

~~

Jazz hurt everywhere.

That first forced interface hadn't been the last, and the mech hadn't gotten any gentler. This most recent time his captor had decided to take it even further and had ordered him to fight back, with the minuscule incentive of potentially avoiding what had been established as the usual. Jazz had known he was outclassed before his first hit, but he'd tried everything he could to hurt his captor. If only just to finally unleash his own anger. Unfortunately, in the end he only managed to dent some of the other's plating. In return, the black mech had ended it by nearly wrenching his arm off when he'd shoved Jazz face first against a wall and taken him hard.

That occasion had left him bruised and leaking both Energon and transfluid after his captor's third consecutive overload. The performer hadn't cared enough to remove himself from the floor after that. It was only because the in-house medic had summoned his assistant upon seeing Jazz's condition that he'd ended up back in the berth at all. Not that it helped anything, although at least the pain blockers had let him escape reality for a few short joor.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the dreaded click of the door unlocking and the performer couldn't help the shudder that ran through him. If his captor tried to force anything on him again so soon it would probably wreck him completely. The medic hadn't given him any warnings but what good would they have been anyway? So Jazz didn't know it would leave him damaged for certain, but he hurt so badly already that he couldn't imagine surviving any worse. Much less being able to recover. What could he do to prevent it though? So he simply lay there, curled up tightly as he tried to pretend he would be ignored.

His curiosity was prompted to life, however, when a second mech entered too. This one was also primarily black with a lot of dark grey as well as silver accenting. All three colors continued onto his sensor panels, which were built in the more traditional style. His chevron (something Jazz realized his captor didn't have) was a vibrant jade and made him stand out where his coloration might have otherwise been overlooked. Jazz had spent enough time in Praxus to know too that the slimmer frame meant he was most likely younger, and possibly not even into his adult frame yet. Add in the wings that moved almost constantly, small movements but telling if one could read them, and it wasn't possible that this kid was any older than the first vorn of adulthood. By the way the kid's panels moved it seemed he was surprised by the contents of the room, and thus he must be as much a victim as Jazz himself in whatever was about to happen. Horrible ideas began to race through his processor and his spark hurt at most of them, but he knew he wouldn't be able to protect the other. He couldn't even protect himself.

Lost again in his thoughts, Jazz was rapidly yanked back to reality as he was pulled from the berth by the collar. He didn't get the time to find his balance and ended up on the floor when his captor let go. Pain launched through him again but was replaced by fear when his captor spoke.

"I told you what I want, now get to it."

"Yes sir." The voice that responded was young too, Jazz noted without really paying attention. It also held a myriad of undertones from respectful to confused to fearful. Not that Jazz really had the chance to study the kid's voice, much as he would have enjoyed doing so in a different time and very different place. "… but I do need an access point to do my work."

Before Jazz could process what that might mean, he was again being touched by his captor. Fear swelled and he made a pitiful effort to fight back but blacked out quickly as another shock ran through his system.

When he onlined again the kid was seated beside him with the other mech looming over them both from a short ways away. Weakly, the performer forced himself to sit up. He wouldn't be able to hide he was alert for long and at least he could attempt to fight back from a seated position. If he were lucky the shock might even offline him permanently this time. It was bound to happen soon with how weak he'd become.

"It's finally back, now get on with it."

Jazz only absently noticed the kid jump slightly and completely missed any other movements until he felt the cable plug into the port in his neck. That was also how he noticed the collar was gone. Wrong as he knew it to be, that thought scared him because he knew his systems were too weak to properly fight off any mental invasion. He hadn't even begun trying to reinforce his firewalls when he felt the kid's presence and stalled out from the familiarity, but before he could respond an overpowering command flooded their connection.

[ _ **Don't react.**_ ]

Suddenly aware again of his own frame, Jazz made sure to hold himself still as he tentatively reached out. [ _Prowl?_ ]

[ _Hi Jazz._ ]

The reply was almost instant, tinged with embarrassment and regret, but Jazz couldn't hold back his relief and didn't process either emotion at first.

[ _I can't believe yer here. I knew ya wouldn' leave me but it's been so terrible I almost gave up all hope._ ] Fear-laced panic was the silent reaction to Jazz's words. [ _Everythin' hurts an' I was so close to just givin' up… But yer here now ta save me, so it'll be a'right. I'm not sure I'll be much help but I'll make sure ta follow any plan 'a yers as best I can._ ]

[ _Jazz…_ ]

Prowl's use of his designation was so melancholy that it sparked doubt, leading the performer back to fear. [ _Please say yer gettin' me outta here, Prowl. I'm gonna offline if 'e keeps doin' what he has ta me._ ] Unbidden, the memories crept up and he laid them out for the Enforcer. [ _My frame can't handle much more a' that an' 'e's prob'ly only gettin' started._ ]

[ _I do have a plan._ ] Relief again flooded the connection, only to be replaced with worry as Prowl continued. [ _But you're not going to appreciate it._ ]

[ _Prowl…?_ ]

[ _There's no quick way out. Too many guards as well as a higher end security system. We'd never get far and I can't fight like this. In order to get in I had to leave all weapons behind and remove nearly all of my armor. I'd stand no chance against even one opponent, much less more._ ]

[ _So ya don't have a plan…_ ]

[ _I do_ ] Prowl assured him. [ _But it is, unfortunately, set to a longer timescale._ ]

Jazz hesitated, fearing the answer even as he needed to know. [ _How long?_ ]

[ _I_ will _have you out of here within a vorn. Any sooner depends on variables I don't yet know so I can't calculate._ ]

The devastation that flooded their link threatened to overwhelm both of them.

[ _I won' survive_ ] Jazz lamented, acceptance of his own offlining slowly settling in.

[ _Yes you can_ ] Prowl argued before his mental tone went softer and sorrowful. [ _But I have to ask something horrible of you…_ ]

When Jazz didn't respond, he simply continued. [ _There's a reason I'm here._ ] The 'here' was stressed with focus directed to their present connection. That sparked just a tiny bit of questioning and the Enforcer went on to explain. [ _He is under the impression that I'm a young but skilled hacker, something he was recently in need of. Apparently to hack into you._ ]

Prowl hesitated again, because this was the part that had left him cold during his earlier 'interview'. [ _He knows where you come from. And he wants me to warp your coding into that of a pleasurebot._ ]

The cascade of tumultuous emotions all centered on a resounding ' **no!** '

Prowl managed to ride out the wave of sensation, offering calm and steadiness in return. And only when Jazz had leveled out again did he continue. [ _I would never do that to you._ ] He dropped all firewalls to show the sincerity of his statement but didn't stop there. [ _But what I am going to do might be worse._ ]

[ _I need to ask you to act the part; to willingly play a pleasurebot for him._ ]

Terror that was borderline panic was how the response came, and Prowl remained there, steady but with heavy undercurrents of regret and remorse. There was also a hidden note of self-hate though the rest covered it well. However, it was the simmering anger beneath that ever present calm that slowly drew Jazz back. Prowl rarely had a temper but when it did boil over there was a frighteningly horrible aftermath left in his wake. And he always got his target.

In a softer, almost desperate tone, Jazz spoke up again finally. [ _I can't._ ]

[ _It won't be pleasant but you're strong, I know you can manage this._ ]

[ _No, I really can't…_ ] Now his tone did hit desperate. [ _You know my code; what I been so careful ta avoid activating. Why I'm prob'ly the only mech from my city not ta have multiple berthmates…_ ]

[ _I know._ ] Prowl's regret and self-hatred both increased as Jazz continued. He did still have one more thing to say. [ _That's why you should try to consider him your current partner. You and I are over after all, by your own choice._ ]

Jazz didn't respond to that, withdrawing so completely that Prowl would have to go poking around to find his feelings. The officer sent a final wave of apology and one last comment before withdrawing as well.

[ _Please consider it. This is the best plan I have for now._ ]

And then he was disconnected and standing. "I'm done, sir."

"About time."

"I'm sorry," the seemingly younger mech responded. "I've never hacked another bot before so it was a new experience."

"Yeah yeah," the noble shrugged off the explanation. "You made sure the coding took?"

"I think so, but it might be a few orns for the changes to take effect, sir. May I caution you not to use him until then, sir?"

"Whatever. That's as long as the medic says his injuries will take to heal anyway but that doesn't mean I can't have my fun in other ways."

Striding closer, he pulled Jazz up until he was kneeling before commanding him to stay, which Jazz did automatically. He had retreated too far into himself to care about his frame's use. Even when his captor forced him to take in his spike, ordering him to suck better as the intrusion was shoved down his intakes. It was easier when the other took full control and forced his helm back and forth. There was less to focus on when he wasn't the one controlling the in and out motion. He could have gotten lost entirely if his captor hadn't decided to pinch one of his sensor horns, drawing an attempted cry of pain which only made his intakes constrict tighter around the intrusion. It was enough to cause his captor to overload, releasing transfluid inside him in an even worse way as Jazz's ventilations were completely blocked.

When he was finally freed, Jazz collapsed to the floor gasping as he tried to clear his intakes. He never even noticed the duo leave until the door lock re-engaged and he was left alone once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple past events visited just to offer additional details.

Prowl slowly made his way to the chief's office. If he moved too quickly everyone would notice something was wrong and he couldn't afford that.

Peeking in after a gentle knock, he called out to catch his boss's attention. "Chase?"

The older mech looked up, only mildly surprised and gestured him to enter. "What can I do for you, Prowl?"

"I have a request to make, sir." As he spoke, Prowl signaled the door to shut and it locked on an apparent command from Chase.

"I need to 'take some time off' in order to complete an undercover job."

"What job?"

"The one you're about to authorize," Prowl answered, pulling out a datapad.

The chief's optics brightened just a bit in surprise as he read through. "A solid plan and it would be beneficial to remove a potential threat to the general safety of the public. But why take this yourself?"

"Personal reasons."

Chase knew better than to question the other Enforcer's professionalism, but he still had a few misgivings. "You don't ever vacation though. Won't that be suspicious?"

"I could create a reasoning for it." Even as he gave the simple reply, Prowl's processor began building, examining and discarding options. He terminated the thread a nanoklik later, making a different choice. "Or we could simply not be bothered to answer. I am notoriously private after all."

Chase offered a soft hum in reply, neither in agreement nor argument. "And your sparkmate? It would separate the two of you for an extended period. What does he think of this intended mission?"

"I intend to inform him once you've agreed." The younger Enforcer did at least have the decency to show shame when his superior cast an inquisitorial look his way. "The personal reasons are more his than mine; I oppose this mech so strongly because he's hurt Jazz.

"I'm doing this for him. It's to show I care about him and his past. That I do love him and would do all I can for him. Even though it wasn't immediate, I want him to know I'll always try to help."

~~

The youngling was waiting when he entered.

At first glance the kid wasn't much of anything. A slight frame with little to no armor and sensor panels that jerked up and fluttered at even the slightest sound, easily betraying the youth's nervousness. Those wings were so very expressive just like this and surely were so much more when in pain. This youngling would be great fun to break, if he hadn't been brought here for a much different reason.

Despite the ever-moving wings, the youngling's pose and posture were exactly as he'd been told to wait. Legs folded beneath him with servos stretched as far as they went atop his legs, back straight with sensor panels spread wide, and helm bowed so his optics faced the floor. The dark color of his paint job almost made the kid seem to fade away though. Nothing about him suggested he would have the necessary skills but the youth had come highly recommended. Not that Barricade entirely believed his source, but that was why he only paid half the credits due upfront and the other half when he got his results. Thus far, however, such had always been a mutually satisfactory agreement.

Casting away all those thoughts, the noble turned his full focus to the youngling he had paid to have delivered. "Age and designation."

The sudden words caused the youngling to startle and a smirk appeared on Barricade's faceplates. Training this kid into his household would be almost too easy. Even his tone, soft and deferential, marked this one as easy.

"Standby, sir," the youngling stated, helm down still. "And I've been in my adult frame for almost two vorn now."

He hadn't been expecting that, but it was an interesting surprise. Adult frames had a few more fun quirks than youngling ones, and there was no way this kid was actually an adult. His actions were those of a youngling and he was from the lower end of the city so it was entirely likely he'd skipped the second stage youngling upgrades.

"I've heard you're a skilled hacker," Barricade prodded. "Is that true?"

"I do know my way around some code, yes, sir, but hacking is illegal and no one should ever do it."

A couple nanokliks later he had the youth dangling off the ground by his chestplating. The kid was as light as he looked and it was easy to keep a hold on him. Even through his panicked, jerky motions. The fear in his optics was a special delight for the noble as he spoke, especially when it increased. "I paid a lot of credits for you, and if you don't have the skills I need then I'll have to get their value out of you in other ways. A nice, newly upgraded shut-in like you ought to be fun to claim the seals of. How much do you think I could auction you off for? Or should I do it myself? I'm not hurting for credits and it's been so long since I claimed an untouched bot."

A soft whimper convinced him to release the youth, who was too slow in finding his balance and collapsed to the floor. That ought to be enough to get his point across, but just in case, Barricade added one more thing. "I am the law in my household and you belong to me now."

"Y-yes sir," the adult framed youngling replied as he hesitantly pulled himself back into his initial position. Only when he was back exactly as he'd been when Barricade entered did the youth dare to speak again.

"I- I do possess the skills you mentioned, yes, sir. What did you have need of them for?"

Barricade slowly circled his newest acquisition with a wicked smile. The youth knew better than to think he was worth anymore than the value of his skills, that was good. It was almost a shame that he had too many potential uses for this one to break it so soon, but it would be fun to play with this kid. The kid already knew when not to fight but there were ways to still keep him on edge. But first, the sole reason the noble had had this mechling brought to him at all.

"I have a project I need completed." As he spoke, Barricade kept his focus on the youngling to make sure he was paying full attention. "I recently acquired a Hexi but it's coding is broken."

"A Hexi?" the kid inquired out of turn. "You mean, like, a Polyhexian?"

The questioning earning the youth a sharp, upwards yank on one of his wings, cutting off the remainder of what he was going to say with a cry of pain. "Don't ever interrupt me," Barricade chided, earning a quick nod from the youngling.

"Of course," he did answer the question though. "Everyone knows what Hexi's are." Barricade waited to see if the kid would argue but he was clever enough to stay silent. All the better for him.

"What I need is someone to get in and properly activate the pleasurebot coding. All Hexi's have it but this one somehow doesn't have it running yet. That's where you come in."

The youth looked genuinely shocked but he didn't care why. Either this kid was as good as he'd heard and could do it, or he wasn't and the noble would have to find some alternate use for him. Well, and find another hacker. So for his own sake the youth had better be as good as his reputation.

"You are going to come with me and do as I say or you may well take its place as my personal fragtoy. Got it?"

The kid nodded quickly and repeatedly until he was told to stand. After that he was to follow as Barricade led them deeper into his property until they reached a code locked door. The test of his skills lay inside that room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stolen moment of fluff.

Standby passed silently through Barricade's mansion. It had been nearly a decaorn since his arrival and, other than his initial test, the noble had yet to make any further requests for his skills so his time was his own. And, as long as he wasn't caught attempting to access any restricted areas, he had enough freedom to wander wherever he chose. Other than that, his only other restriction was a comm dampener. He could communicate with and be reached by anyone inside the mansion, but there was no contact with the world beyond.

That idea was, honestly, a little frightening, but he'd planned for such a possibility and had borrowed an only slightly illegal communication device before beginning his mission. He couldn't seem suspicious by wanting to keep his comms fully accessible. After all, 'Standby' was an orphan so there should be no one he was looking to communicate with.

A familiar-ish door loomed ahead of him and Standby altered his plans. He had been searching out a safe place to use his communicator under the guise of exploring, but this was even more important. He'd been tested within and he had to check up on the victim.

~~

Jazz didn't know why he did it, but he peeked his helm out from under the mesh blanket he was currently huddled within when he heard the door unlock. Even as he looked over his spark constricted in fear. He'd only been left alone a few joor previous and he wasn't certain he could play his part again so soon. Thankfully, the last couple times hadn't been as rough but he expected that was soon to change.

Rather than his captor, however, the first mech to enter was the only other bot he'd seen since being brought into 'his' room (his prison it was more like.) Well, other than the medic and his assistant too.

Jazz didn't move as he waited for his captor to enter as well. Just because he was supposed to play a pleasurebot didn't mean he had to be completely obscene. Not that he wanted to even touch that creep at all, but he had faith in Prowl and his plans still. Somehow he would save him. He just had to trust and believe in the other mech.

Jazz was so caught up in his thoughts and worries that the soft utterance of his designation from way closer than he expected anyone to be caused him to startle.

"It's alright, Jazz," the voice continued. "He didn't come with. We're alone."

Finally Jazz was able to reign in his shock enough to notice the speaker and he all but wilted in relief. "Prowl," he both stated and asked, receiving a soft smile in return.

"Hi Jazz."

The performer was up, untangled from his blanket and wrapping his arms around the young looking Praxian at that. He barely even registered how the small smile cast his way was even cuter with this mech looking younger than he was. "You have no idea how happy I am ta see ya."

Although the words had been mumbled into his frame, Prowl understood the sentiment. "I'm glad to see you too," he agreed as he hugged Jazz back. "And so grateful to see you in better spirits."

His voice went quieter as he added, "I was expecting you to hate me after... well, after what I asked you to do."

Jazz only burrowed in tighter for a few nanokliks before pulling away to look at and speak with Prowl. "'E's been less violent now tha' I seem willin'. I still can' believe I'm touchin' that freak, much less acceptin' anythin' he's doin' ta me, but at least it don' leave my frame wrecked e'ry time now."

It was small consolation and the mental damage was likely to be even worse in the end, but maybe this way Jazz would be in a functional physical condition when they were finally able to leave. And the only answer Prowl had for Jazz was to pull him in again for another embrace. "I am so sorry… " he whispered.

Jazz only huddled closer and they remained like that for some time before he was too curious not to ask. "How'd ya even get in? I doubt he gave ya the code."

"No," Prowl agreed. "But neither did he prevent me from obtaining it. He did enter it right in front of me."

"Never expected ya'd have the processor ta remember it, huh?"

"That, and I was acting too frightened to seem capable of anything."

"Ya do play your part well. Better than I woulda expected actually," Jazz admitted. "Even had me fooled at first."

"I'll take that as the compliment I'm hoping it was meant to be," Prowl replied with a bit of teasing in his tone.

"Ya always could understand me better than most. 'Least around this city anyway." Jazz chuckled slightly but it faded quickly into a soft exvent. "Can't believe how much I miss this." Tucking himself in closer against Prowl again, he went on to explain. "It's a lotta little things too, like contact with others. I useta be around other bots all the time but now I get left all alone most a' the time, 'less he's usin' me, an' I'm gettin' so touch deprived it almos' hurts. Even righ' now. I nearly don' care that yer here so much as I care that yer treatin' me nice. That someone at all is treatin' me nice fer once.

"'Course, that it is you does make it even better still."

Jazz added the last just before shifting to try and get even closer, as if intent on melding their frames together. Prowl simply moved with him as needed to help Jazz feel better. They settled in a position with Jazz halfway onto his lap, arms wrapped tight around Prowl, while one of Prowl's arm was holding him close and the other servo gently petting Jazz's helm. Prowl had needed to climb further onto the berth, lest they fall off, but it was the most comfortable position the two could find. There wasn't much else Prowl could do about any part of their present situation, but at least he could offer comfort here and now.

They remained that way for several kliks before Prowl's comm indicated an incoming message. He answered it automatically, out of habit more than anything else, and was startled by the sharp tone that immediately assaulted him. : _Standby._ :

: _Yes sir?_ : Prowl answered meekly, letting his persona overtake him again.

: _Where are you?_ :

: _I was just exploring, sir. Is that not acceptable now, sir?_ :

: _Whatever. I want you in my office,_ now.:

: _Yes, sir._ :

A data packet was waiting when the line ended and Prowl sent it through a few Enforcer-grade scans as he focused on Jazz again. He first gave the other a tight hug before speaking. "I have to leave now. He just requested my presence in his office."

Some of Jazz's sadness gave way to understanding although it remained his predominant expression, both in frame and field. He knew best that they were at the whim of his captor but it didn't hurt any less to have only gotten so little time. He couldn't refrain from asking the first question that crossed his processor. "Will you be back?"

"I won't guarantee it, but if I can, I will."

That was the best assurance that could be given and Jazz had to accept it. Even though he hated it. So with a nod and a final squeeze of a hug Jazz pulled away so Prowl could leave. The latter's field and frame showed almost as much sadness as Jazz felt himself, prompting him to force a smile and attempt a joke. "Ya better get goin' b'fore ya anger 'im too much an' get locked in here with me."

The joke fell flatter than a mini stepped on by a cityformer but Prowl bid him a sad smile anyway. Then he turned and by the time he reached the door he appeared many, many vorn younger. Prowl gave a soft exvent as he exited, fully diving back into the persona of Standby as he headed down to meet with his new 'boss.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get to find out what Barricade wants this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually been done with this for a while but wanted to add more because it felt too short. Unfortunately, both the ending of this feels like a great cut off place and every other scene idea I have fits the theme of other chapters better so, begrudgingly, I have to call this done. My deepest apologies on the delay.

The data packet had come up clean of any known viruses as well as any commonly used base styles thus cutting out 97% of dangerous additions. While not necessarily safe, it was highly unlikely to contain anything that would burrow into his systems to disastrous effect, and when he'd opened it, the data packet had been a map of the property. Important rooms had been marked; the dining hall and main entrance, along with a few alternate exits and the servants' areas, including the meal preparation room. Most importantly however, the lord's office was both marked and highlighted, making it nearly impossible that he wouldn't be able to find his way to it. Which he immediately intended to do.

Prowl also quickly made and saved a capture of the file in a separate location before settling the sent file into the shell program that was his disguise. It would be expected for Standby to keep the file and if there were any tracker programs in it they wouldn't be able to touch his actual system. The same applied if anyone plugged in, unless they were actively hacking and managed to crack through. Some tracker programs even recorded any edits made to files so an alternate version was a necessity. There were countless reasons he might need to make changes to a map, so a second copy in his own memories was important and directly after opening was the safest time to make a duplicate. Before any programmed trackers could start up and everything was chaotic enough to mask the copy process for any already active.

Coming down a staircase set him in the right hallway and he took what little time remained to calm himself by channeling the fear and worry into his disguise. It only mostly worked. He couldn't shy away from this forever though and so only a few nanokliks after arriving at the labeled door on his map, Standby pinged for entrance.

The door slid open to reveal a room that was at least twice as long as it was wide. Along one wall was a collection of shelving units containing countless datapads, each displaying the title page of a different famous work. These were interspersed with other odds and ends such as skulls of rare or hard to kill creatures, presumably taken as trophies. The opposite wall held only two doors, both in the middle with a gap half their size between them.

He didn't stop to analyze the room long, however. As soon as Standby entered, his map updated to re-label the lord's office as the nearer of the two doors and he started towards it right away. Neither door was marked in any physical way, but he was fairly sure he didn't want to find out where the other door led.

His ping to enter was answered by this door sliding open as well and so he cautiously entered. There was a slight chill to the air that the rest of the building didn't have, although the previous room may have also been colder. It wasn't immediately noticeable either, but the lighting was subtly dimmer as well. That he knew hadn't been true of the previous room.

Abruptly, Prowl realized just what he was doing and had to force himself to stop and tuck his true self away for now. He was taking all the information in anyway and could analyze it later, in the relative safety of his room. Not right in front of the very mech he needed to deceive in order to protect both himself and Jazz from anything worse, even if that mech was in the middle of a conversation via commline. That could end any astrosecond after all.

~

The mechling at least knew how to respond to orders, Barricade thought as Standby entered his office just far enough for the door to shut before standing silent. Much better than a lot of the other mechs working for him, he had to admit. Of course, the youth was also a total pushover so he wasn't even worth a quarter of one of his mechs, but the rapid response time was still a pleasant change. If only he could instill that same fear of him into the rest now...

But that was a project for another orn. Barricade already had more than enough to concern himself with presently. And most of his frustrations were focused at the mech on the other end of his commline. Everyone knew to expect that when dealing with Swindle though. At least now he had a nice toy he could go play with after he finished up here. A good, hard frag was the perfect remedy to many problems. That is, unless he ran into an out of place servant before reaching his toy. Violence also served as good stress relief. It was almost too bad the youth here in his office would crumble after only a couple blows, but he still had other plans for this one.

The comm ended in customary Swindle fashion, dropping dead shortly after the business concluded. It was a bad habit his clients somehow always forgot until he did again. Luckily for him, he hadn't done it in person with anyone yet; that would get him severely damaged by the right mechs and offlined by the worst. Depending on his mood, Barricade could easily be either.

Rather than acting on that desire though, he simply turned to his 'guest.' "I shouldn't need to tell you that that conversation never happened."

"What conversation, sir?"

It was asked in an almost innocent tone and for an astrosecond he nearly believed the kid. From anyone else that would have been punishable, but it was just impressive enough coming from the mechling to make him chuckle mentally. "You're clever, kid," Barricade offered in actual compliment. "I could use that, if you ever spawn a spinal strut."

Standby just nodded with a soft, "yes sir," but his wings betrayed his surprise, confusion and concern.

"Get your wings under control too." The order actually caused the youth to jump and his frame signaled shock. "They'll betray you every time if you don't control them."

"Yes sir."

"Now," the lord began, changing the subject. "I called you here because I have a task for you." The kid stilled but he paid no mind to it. "Do you remember the first project I had you complete?"

"Yes sir."

"So you remember how to find that room?"

The answer came slower this time, the youngling clearly scared to anger him. "Not entirely, sir, but I could try to find it. I do know it was somewhere on the second level."

Barricade shuttered his optics for an astrosecond as he forcibly uploaded a new update to the map of his home. This one marked his toy's location as well as the code to enter. He could tell when it was received and spent several nanokliks studying the youth again. He would be so expressive when he got broken, except right now he was more likely to retreat inward if anything happened. It would be difficult to do right, but the challenge made it more fun.

"From now on, you are in charge of making sure my new pet refuels. It needs Energon too and all my servants are too afraid of that corridor." Except, they were actually only afraid of him and what he'd do upon finding any of them within that hallway. He didn't even need to be explaining himself this much to a subordinate.  
"One cube a day unless the medic or I order otherwise. Nothing higher than midgrade."

"Yes sir."

There had been a delay in the response but that was better for the kid than interrupting would have been.

"And Standby…" He trailed off in questioning tone, to test how the youth would respond. The answer was imperfect but completely acceptable.

"What more do you need, sir?"

"Make sure you periodically check on those code changes I wanted. Starve him if you must to get access to his systems. You do not want me to find out there are any coding errors."

"No sir, of course not," the kid answered first before attempting to amend his statement. "I mean, yes sir. I'll make sure to do that, sir."

Barricade stared at him for a while to make the kid squirm before finally relenting. "Dismissed."

Standby had barely stood and was inclining his helm in respect/deference when Barricade added one more statement. "You can start this orn, but don't wait any longer than tomorrow."

"Y-yes sir," the youth stammered before finally being allowed to escape.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz gets angry and decides to channel that anger.

Prowl slipped through the doorway and signaled the door to shut again before it had fully opened. His focus was still on the ever deserted hallway as he began speaking. He only had a limited window of opportunity and he certainly didn't want to waste it.

"I'm sorry it's been so long, but I wasn't exactly welcomed when he was here earlier and- Jazz?"

Nearly two orn had passed since he'd last been able to bring Jazz any Energon, low-grade supplemented with his own allowed mid-grade unless Prowl completely substituted his own cube, and in that time the other mech had changed drastically. Plating that had been black and white was now platinum blue with silver polished to a bright sheen. Cobalt blue accents completed the look, making Jazz appear very much like a popular Iaconian singer. There were only minor details missing, extra bits of armor that Jazz himself didn't have, and only noticeable if one were looking and had an image of the singer to compare against. Such as the one hanging on the far wall.

"You're…" Prowl began but found himself at a loss for words. Thankfully, or not, Jazz had plenty to spare.

"Wearin' my stage colors, I know. Tha' freak got me jus' ta paint me up like Phoenix. Can ya believe it? Brought in an artist an' had the mech do it right 'ere even. Soon as I get outta here, Phoenix is gettin' a complete makeover, believe me." The rant only stalled for a few nanokliks as Jazz growled lowly. "What a fraggin' glitch! Calls 'imself my 'biggest fan' too. Like I wan' a creeper like 'im as a fan."

Jazz had been stalking back and forth as he fumed and now paused, looking at the wall as though he'd just noticed the image capture hanging there. An astrosecond later he was tearing it from the wall and promptly flung the pieces on the floor. The visor he still wore had deepened to such a shade of dark blue that it made Jazz look positively vicious when he turned his attention back towards Prowl. Slowly he advanced on the Praxian, his tone still cold. "What're ya doin' here anyway?"

Prowl stumbled in answering, his processor not handling the abrupt transition well. "I… uh… I brought your Energon." Reaching into his subspace, he quickly removed one of the cubes within and held it out in offering. "Here."

"Keep it." Jazz all but growled his response. "Or better yet…"

He closed the distance between them and swatted the Praxian's servo, sending the Energon flying sideways. The offending substance splattered across the wall and floor in an unsatisfying manner and Jazz dismissed it almost immediately in favor of glaring once more at the other mech in the room. "Get out. Ya don' act'lly care 'bout me."

"Jazz," Prowl gasped. "That's not true!"

"Sure it is. Ya stay out there where yer all safe an' jus' show up ta taunt me with that freedom."

"You don't mean that."

"Why not? 'Cause it's true," Jazz argued before pausing in his resumed pacing and stiffening in place. Somehow his expression turned even darker when he looked Prowl's way again. "This is all yer fault."

That stopped him cold. Words didn't exist for Prowl, even as he watched Jazz storm towards him again with clear rage in every line of his frame. That was the crux of the situation after all, and he had no way to defend himself nor the will to lie. He was willing to accept whatever punishment his former mate might choose to inflict.

Prowl stood as still as he could as Jazz reached him. His processor almost couldn't keep up when the Polyhexian simply brushed past him though. He was slow to turn too and so missed the initial strike, but not the numerous following ones.

Caught up in the conversation, Prowl had missed their 'gracious host' arriving behind him. Jazz most certainly had not, however, and threw the full force of his anger into attacking the mech. Frag the consequences. He'd happily take offlining over dealing with any more of this. Lost in his rage attack, it took a powerful, well placed blow to the helm to make him stop. And it only worked because the blow completely shorted his systems for a couple astroseconds. Meanwhile, all Prowl could do was look on in shock as Jazz first tore into Barricade, and then was stopped rather crudely. To his credit, Jazz had managed to dent some of the other's armor and a lucky move had even garnered him a handful of wires, which he'd pulled hard. The area was still sparking slightly and it seemed the move had limited Barricade's use of his left arm. Unfortunately it hadn't stopped him from hitting back.

Once Jazz was down, Barricade turned his attention towards Prowl. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. Prowl had barely started his vocalizer to answer when he was cut off, however. "I don't care. Get out. You don't belong in here."

"Y-yes sir," Prowl stuttered in reply, his shock and terror lending to his disguise well as he found his way out. His last glimpse as the door slid shut behind him was of the other Praxian reaching down as the Polyhexian cringed and curled in on himself.

Though not devoutly religious, in that nanoklik Prowl offered a prayer to Primus, Unicron, and any other deity that might exist to keep Jazz online. Even if it meant somehow taking the punishment himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz is in a bad way after what happened last chapter. Vaguely suicidal thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag Update
> 
> It's been a while, I know. Life got in the way and then depression hit hard but don't let the contents of this chapter scare you over my mental state. That's part of why it was such a struggle to write it; writing and posting this is probably the closest to 'normal' I have felt in a long time. It's short and I wanted another viewpoint to also make it into this chapter but I decided a finished scene update was worth more than fighting to double the chapter and never getting it done. I hope all of you appreciate it and here's to what I hope will be a nice long streak of writing again.

There were noises in the outside world but Jazz barely roused. His frame ached and his systems were too strained already. Onlining his optics was an unnecessary waste of energy. Pit, focusing outward at all was overrated presently. He didn't think he could even be bothered to care if it was his captor back to use him again. This haze was too nice, if only because it blocked everything for a while. Let the mech do as he wanted, maybe he would be lucky enough and the toll on his own frame would knock him back offline to escape for a while longer. He couldn't be lucky enough that it would actually offline him though. 

Some time later -perhaps kliks, perhaps orns- in this state he neither knew nor cared, there was noise again. This time beside his berth. Perhaps it was voices but he didn't want to focus and listen through the blankets he had huddled under when the medic finished a few orn ago. Or perhaps several decaorn. For all he knew, or cared, it had been a vorn since his colors were changed and the subsequent anger fit that left him destroyed. The only part he had cared about was the peaceful bliss of temporary stasis that had come when the medic finally showed up joors later. Or was it orns?

His calm was shattered as Jazz felt his systems syncing up with another's, only belatedly noticing someone had plugged in. It was a struggle to focus but he managed to find his firewalls and immediately began trying to strengthen them. He had only just started when he heard the voice internally.

[ _Please let me in, Jazz._ ]

Even in this state, his relief was palpable, if momentary. [ _Prowl?_ ]

[ _Yes,_ ] the reply came hesitantly. [ _I'm here. How are you?_ ]

[ _I think fallin' inta a compactor woulda hurt less but I ain't feelin' any a' it now._ ] The dull ache in one of his pedes -or was that an arm?- sharpened for an astrosecond before dulling again, betraying his lie. [ _Not really anyway. I's all dull an' kinda not really there..._ ]

[ _I can tell that’s a lie_ ] Prowl replied. [ _I can feel what you feel like this._ ]

[ _Oh good. Ya mus’ be here ya offline me then._ ]

Shock and fear flared through their connection with an angry undercurrent that Jazz couldn't force himself to care enough to decode. [ _I am not going to offline you!_ ]

[ _Why not? It’d be the nicest thing ta do._ ]

[ _Jazz, I know you’re hurting but it will get better._ ]

[ _No it won’. Don’ lie ta yerself. Even if ya get me out, nothin’ll ever be good again._ ]

[ _I know it seems that way but-_ ]

Jazz had to cut him off there. [ _Prowl, no. Jus’ no._ ]

[ _Why?_ ] Prowl couldn't help asking. [ _Why do you have such little faith in my ability to get you out of here?_ ]

[ _Tha’s not the problem. He-_ ] Jazz paused before changing his wording in the last moment. [ _He ruined me, Prowler._ ]

The long absent nickname drew a pang of pain tinged with regret that could have come from either of them. It fell so heavy that only silence reigned for a long klik before either of them could gather their thoughts enough to speak. 

[ _That’s not true. No matter what he did, it can be repaired._ ]

Prowl’s confidence barely wavered but Jazz’s misery was stronger. [ _Not this one..._ ]

Silence reigned once more as neither had the courage to broach the looming question. This time it was Jazz who spoke.

[ _He took my spark._ ]

For a third time there was nothing said as the crushing weight of a myriad emotions cascaded through their connection. Pain and anguish. Hurt and suffering. Sadness and desperation. Rage and anger. These and many other feelings churned in an ever worsening cycle that Jazz yet again had to bring them past. 

[ _Even if ya can get me outta here an’ get my frame fixed up right, no one’s gonna wanna be with me. Not with his taint in my spark. How could I e’en subject anyone ta that? How could I force some’un else ta carry part a’ him? The answer is I won’. Please jus’ lemme offline b’fire it gets any worse._ ]

[ _I don't think it can_ ] Prowl muttered. There was a growing anger in his words but still passive enough that Jazz didn't have to pay attention to it. He was too busy wishing he could feel that angry himself, when all he felt was hollow. [ _He has now committed the most vile possible act our kind can conceive. There is nothing he can do that would be worse except offlining you-_ ]

[ _Would be an improvement_ ] Jazz muttered as Prowl kept going. 

[ _-but he wants to own you so he wouldn't do that._ ]

The Praxian offered a comforting pulse across their connection in lieu of the physical contact he could not make but Jazz gave no response back. It just took too much energy. 

[ _I will get you out of here_ ] Prowl promised and Jazz was just aware enough to notice both the determination and hope in his tone.

He barely found the will to force his own thoughts into words. [ _Is that it?_ ]

He could feel the other’s processor churning away in an attempt to find the right answer and the resulting emotional turmoil but the answer he wanted had been refused so Jazz didn't care. He just wanted to be left alone to fade in peace.

Some or all of his thought must have gotten through because Prowl seemed more confident with his next statement. [ _I will just leave you then?_ ]

Jazz didn't respond, which was an answer in itself. He just waited until the other withdrew from his mind before isolating himself and trying to find that bubble of nothingness he’d had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, I finally returned to Tumblr so once I figure out the link to post and if anyone feels like interacting over there that would be cool.


End file.
